


I'm Going to Do What I Want (And You're Not Going to Stop Me)

by LysanderandHermia



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: ? I guess, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Danger Kink, Dirty Talk, Fighting, Frottage, Gun Kink, Gun Violence, Jim being a snarky bitch, M/M, Rutting, Sebastian's a cool motherfucker, Threats, Wall Sex, but they're essentially dirty talk for these two, fucking against a wall, seduction via the Human League, these all aren't real tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9365957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LysanderandHermia/pseuds/LysanderandHermia
Summary: Jim gets turned on by dangerous things, and Sebastian does too.Straight up not-quite-hate-fucking/fighting/dangerous/kink-enabling porn.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for violence, unsafe use of guns, blood, mentions of death, hints of suicidal thoughts and murderous intent.
> 
> If you've read any mormor, you probably know what you're in for, but if those things aren't your things, go away now.
> 
> Lowkey seriously pleased with this one; written in fifteen minutes for my zucchini while she had a shower. I feel like if my mormor idols ever read this and liked it that I could transcend this plane and die happy, but I'm not naming names or I'd never be able to look them in the face ever if I ever did get to meet them again. 
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://www.polyhappyfandomtrash.tumblr.com), come say hi and ask me to write things????

When Jim waltzes through the door, he seems more excited than usual, singing at full volume to a Human League song that Sebastian knows he should recognize by now but can’t quite place. Until Jim slips into the living room where the sniper is sprawled sipping whiskey out the bottle, still singing loudly to the music filtering through his earbuds and starting up quite the display of taking off his first few layers, throwing winks and blowing kisses towards Sebastian the entire time.

Sebastian smirks through the affair, still taking gulps of his whiskey, but there’s another warm sensation to pair with the heat of the alcohol in his throat. Ah, Don’t You Want Me. Jim slips into Sebastian’s lap after pulling off his tie, looping it around Sebastian’s neck to draw him in for a long kiss. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Sebastian remarks, watching as Jim pulls out his earbuds and tosses them and his phone off to the side, stealing a gulp of whiskey from the bottle. 

“So it would seem. I got to be someone’s Christmas present today,” Jim trills happily, and Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly, “We made a whole new game up to play with Sherlock. It’s going to be  _ such fun _ .”   
  
Sebastian’s grip on Jim tightens slightly, but he raises an eyebrow. “So you were right about where mister Iceman wanted you?” At the nod, he continues, “And what’s the gameplan, then?”

Jim’s eyes simply sparkle, and he slowly cinches up the tie around Sebastian’s neck until it’s just tight enough to be irritating, leaning in close to lick at his cheekbone, breath hot in his ear, “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.”

Moran is many things, but stupid isn’t one of them, and if Jim’s this turned on already to be subtly grinding against him and initiating sex without throwing a punch first, then whatever game he’s ready to put into plan isn’t going to be a pretty one. It’s going to be dangerous, and probably kill the bugger. Moran also isn’t one for worry and sentiment about someone like Jim Moriarty biting off more than he can chew. He knew the risks of getting involved with the man.

One of them would eventually die, Sebastian at Jim’s hand, or Jim by his own games and devising. He was a man that preferred living in the moment. 

Flipping Jim on the couch was a bit more difficult than on other surfaces, but Sebastian managed, grinning down at the smaller man as he pinned his arms over his head, taking the moment to rub his crotch against Jim’s chest, demeaning and something the other hated, laughing when Jim’s giggles turned into frustrated huffs. “I think,” Sebastian said after a moment, leaning back to pull his gun off the coffee table from where it had been freshly polished, pressing it up underneath Jim’s chin, “That someone gets hot thinking about their own death.”

Jim’s eyes darken with want, but the next moment Sebastian is curling sideways, swearing and clutching his side when Jim takes an opportunity to get a hand free and stab into a pressure point. “Don’t pretend to know what I’m thinking, Moran,” Jim spits, and Sebastian laughs again, standing up to face the Irishman.

“Are you pissed because I’m right, or pissed because I’m not as upset as you thought I’d be?”

Jim snarls and jumps at him, and for a moment, neither of them are sure if they’re fighting or trying to get back in the swing of sex. There’s biting kisses and angry punches that turn into tight grips, pulling each other against themselves while trying to get distance enough to throw another hit. 

Sebastian gets a grip in Jim’s hair, and the other man lashes out an elbow, catching Sebastian in the nose and making him stumble. His hand comes away red, and they both grin. Fight before fucking, then. They jump at each other again, breaking the coffee table in the middle of it, swearing and heavy grunts as they land occasional hits on each other. 

Eventually Jim gets the upper hand on Sebastian, knocking him to the ground and grinning as the man swears, a chunk of glass embedding itself in his arm as he hits the broken remnants of the table again. He stands over him, breathing heavily, “I’m going to do what I want, and you’re not going to stop me,” he threatens, something clawing in his chest, and it doesn’t feel good. 

The sniper rolls over and in a burst of energy, has Jim slammed against the nearest wall, gun pressing underneath Jim’s chin again, smirking again at the way Jim freezes and then licks his lips, eyes on Sebastian’s. “You’re going to do what you want, and I’m not going to stop you,” Sebastian repeats, after a few beats, keeping Jim pinned with his arm, finger on the trigger, “I’m not stupid, Jim, I know what we’re doing. I know how this will end. So stop worrying about it.”

Some of the tension Jim didn’t know he was holding bleeds out of him, and he sighs softly, reaching out to grab Sebastian’s shirt and tug him closer, using him and the wall as leverage to lift himself up and get his arms and legs around the taller man. Sebastian grinds against him again, gently at first, pulling back the hammer of his gun, and Jim shudders, leaning into the pressure at his jaw to kiss Sebastian again, breathing a threat into his mouth as they rut against each other. 

Sebastian waits until Jim is close to the edge, clawing at his back and swearing on every intake of breath as they fuck against each other, fully clothed in the decimated living room. Yanking the gun away, he presses it against the wall to the right of Jim’s head and pulls the trigger. 

The bullet buries itself harmlessly in the plaster, but through the ringing in his ears - stupid idea, really, they’ll both be rubbing the sides of their head for the rest of the evening - he hears Jim scream as he orgasms, up until now unaware that the gun had been loaded. 

Relaxing in Sebastian’s grip, Jim shuts his eyes and lets his head thump against the wall behind him, basking in the afterglow as Sebastian rubs himself the rest of the way out, grunting against Jim’s neck as he finishes too. 

When Jim slides with wobbly legs from Sebastian’s arms, he leans up and gives Sebastian one of the softest kisses he’s ever had. Until he bites on his tongue, that is. Swearing, Sebastian brings the gun up level with Jim’s head again, making the Irishman laugh as he turns away, heading for the bathroom to shower.

Sebastian drops the gun onto the sofa, surveying the damage they’ve done, and then jumps as he hears a familiar voice from behind the wall they’d just been fucking against. Dmitri, the Firm’s doctor, leans backwards in his chair, balancing it on two legs as he peers around the wall partition. “You two are nuts, you realize that,” he says dryly, peering over his glasses at the blonde. Shrugging in response, Sebastian pats the man’s shoulder, leaving a bloody handprint as he follows Jim towards the shower, ignoring the indignant man now fussing over his jumper. Ahead, he can hear Jim laughing, already playing the BeeGees from his speaker system.


End file.
